


undercover

by manuladaim



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Inspired by "A Christmas Prince", It's not a slow burn but it's also not as straightfoward as it's in the movie, Journalist Clarke Griffin, Prince Bellamy Blake, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manuladaim/pseuds/manuladaim
Summary: Clarke's undercover job as a journalist this year involves the Arkadia's royal family. She needs to investigate two things: a complaint of government corruption there; and why Queen Aurora Blake is passing the throne to her son, Prince Bellamy. And she needs to do that while she mentors Princess Octavia's art portfolio. The kind of work that the blonde is already used to. But she did not expect that this time, her heart would swing because of a certain smile.~ On temporary hiatus ~
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> \- This prompt is from Cat ([@reyesuniverse](https://twitter.com/reyesuniverse?s=20) on Twitter).
> 
> \- I also post it on Portuguese [here](https://fanfiction.com.br/historia/794116/Undercover/).

**Point of View: Clarke Griffin**

"Jaha, you know I can cover something better than that." Clarke said, huffing. Of all the places that her boss could send her, that country was among the worst.

"Yeah, I know." Jaha answered. "But your last undercover job was a month in the ISIS, Griffin. It was tiring and dangerous." He added, rolling his eyes, his face becoming impatient. "That is still a big cover that has to be well done, but, this time, I’m not sending you to a place where you risk being tortured." Her boss ran his hand on his face, not understanding the reason why the blonde was so pissed off.

"Okay, that does make sense, but look." Clarke said, huffing. "Four months ago, I won a Pulitzer because of that ISIS article and my next job is to cover the Arkadia’s royal family?" She threw her arms up, incredulous. "Really? Don’t you have anything better than that?" She was about to beg him, on her knees, to not send her to that country. It would be, for certain, the most boring job she had ever done.

"Griffin, I’m not getting your point here in how that could be a bad thing." Jaha pointed, opening his arms, his face turning to an incredulous one. "I get my article and you get a more peaceful undercover job." Her boss dropped his arms on his desk, indicating that he didn’t understand the girl. "What is your problem with this?"

Clarke huffed again, and fell back in the chair, pissed off. Apparently, it was useless to discuss. Her undercover job of the year was in the Kingdom of Arkadia.

"So, when will I travel?" Clarke nodded slowly, already knowing that she will regret that decision.

"In two weeks." Jaha answered, smiling.

.....

"I’m serious, Wells, your dad is the worst in the world." Clarke said, rolling her eyes. "I come off from interviewing the leader of the Islamic State to investigate a parliamentary monarchy and the lie that is the 'parliamentarian.'" The blonde gestured quotation marks to indicate how much she knew it was false. "Everyone knows they are corrupt, it's nothing new. What's the point of sending me there now?" Clarke added, snorting, and took a sip of her beer. "Just because the prince is returning to the country does not mean that something will change." The girl opened her arms, irritated, while her eyes rolled again. She really didn't understand how the older Jaha could find a good idea to send to such a boring place to write about something that wasn't exactly new in the news market.

Clarke, Wells, and Raven were on the floor of the two girls' office, drinking while the two friends listened to Griffin explain - and complain - about her new story. Wells and Raven were leaning against the sofa, while Clarke was facing them, leaning against the coffee table.

"But," Wells said, pointing at the blonde with the hand that held her beer bottle, "that can be a good job." His eyebrows furrowed, indicating that he had an idea to share. "You _need_ some time out of here anyway." He shrugged. "A few months away from New York won't hurt you. Or do you want to walk around here and meet your ex with your lover again?" He added laughing, and Raven laughed. The time this had happened, the trio had spent one night drinking two bottles of vodka and a nice hangover the next morning.

"You didn't have to be so heavy, Wells." Clarke replied, shaking her head sideways and laughing with both of them. She was happy that she had managed to overcome the pain of being betrayed and now she could laugh at the situation.

"Seriously, Clarke," Raven started, nodding at the blonde, "use that as a break while you're still working. One:" while speaking, Raven raised a finger from her free hand to indicate the first topic on the list "you will be able to guide a princess in her art portfolio. Two:" raised a second finger "you will spend autumn and winter in a beautiful country. And three:" raised a third finger "will still be able to cover the change of kingdom in Arkadia from a front-row seat. I don't know, maybe you get another Pulitzer with that."

"Yes, Raven," Clarke said, rolling her eyes, "you can be sure that Columbia is very interested in rewarding a story about the royal family." Completed, frowning in a face of total contempt. Both the voice and the girl's expressions indicated that she had not liked the job she would have to do." Go for it.

"Girl," Raven began, rolling her eyes," you're going to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve in a magnificent castle. Stop complaining. I want a job like that." The brunette added, throwing her back on the front of the sofa that was behind her. Clarke held up a hand, irritated, indicating that he was fed up with friends trying to convince her that it would be a cool job.

"Can we stop talking about the boredom that will be the next months in my life and finish the last season of The Man in the High Castle?" Asked the blonde, indicating the television behind her.

"Using The Man in the High Castle is a low blow." Wells said, pointing at the blonde with furrowed eyebrows in suspicion "But I'll let it go this time," his face relaxed, "because I also want to know what's going on to happen." Completed, already excited. His eyes opened in excitement as a smile painted his lips, which was accompanied by those of the two girls. This was the favorite TV Show of the three friends and they were crazy about how it would end. Nothing better than watching the last two episodes of it to forget the disaster that is the blonde's life.


	2. Selfish jerk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Today is the day that our favorite blonde arrives in Arkadia and meets some important characters. I recommend you to pay attention to this chapter, since it has a lot of information. I hope you like it!

**Point of View: Clarke Griffin**

Clarke watched the plane turning around the runway and preparing to take off. This was really happening: in a few hours, she would be in the Kingdom of Arkadia.

The previous two weeks had passed like a blur in her life since the girl was immersed in everything that involved the job. Several nights of sleep were exchanged for hours in front of her laptop, immersed in research on the country, its governance model, and everything she could find about the royal family. All very well organized on a highly encrypted external hard drive - the blonde owed Raven one. The things most external to the trip were the things that worried her the least since she was used to packing and getting a last-minute visa - and the fact that she was going to work for the royal family just made it easier.

At that time, Clarke hadn’t become more interested in her trip. For someone who had infiltrated the United States Congress during the presidential elections and who had spent a month interviewing the ISIS leaders directly from Iraq, she was unable to look at her next job and not be bored. But she came to accept it - whether she liked it or not, it was the reality now, and she needed to accept it. And it wasn't all bad - she was slightly excited about the idea of mentoring someone's portfolio, although she refused to admit it. It was her favorite part of her application, and she was proud of how she managed to transfer, to her paintings, and to her personal statement, how much that meant to her. She wanted to be successful in tutoring someone in this, even if it wasn't her focus there.

She would stay there, at least, until the beginning of January. With the application deadline for Washington in the early decision being November 1 and the results coming out in mid-December, she would be back in the second week of January. If the princess wasn’t admitted, she would return home around the third week, after she applied in the regular decision to some university. The blonde's boss arranged for her to have her time extended - initially, she would stay there until the beginning of November. That would give her time to research everything she needed and cover the prince's possession, which would happen a few days after the new year.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the flight attendant announcing that the plane had already stabilized in the air, that the seat belts could already be loosened and the electronic equipment turned on. The blonde put on her headphones and dropped one of her favorite playlists on [ Spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6RUPUtjJERfXZfTeNVKUmG?si=mQmsfdP6Ssqt0ItwCJjLog), opening the window on her left side to admire the Atlantic Ocean beneath her. She took her sketchbook out of the bag, along with her crayons, already with a drawing in mind. The trip would be long and she would make a connection in Madrid, so she had time to rest for a while before going over the details needed to be successful in her time in Arkadia.

***

Clarke went over the plan mentally while picking up her bag. In addition to being an anonymous journalist, she was also an anonymous artist - which had earned her some exhibitions of her paintings in museums across Europe the year before, before traveling to Iraq. Jaha decided to use this to her advantage, justifying why she deserved the spot as a mentor. In the meantime, she needed to investigate two things: the reason for the exchange of power in Arkadia and the accusations of buying votes involving parliament.

The blonde arrived at the airport gate and went to the taxi line to wait for a ride to the palace. When one pulled up beside her and opened the door, someone cut it off and got in the car. Clarke's eyebrows furrowed, her face taking on an irritated tone, as she shouted:

“Hey! This is my taxi! I have time to get to the place I need.” The girl said, going to the side of the car and looking angrily at who was inside it.

A man, around 25, dressed all in black, with a hood over his head and a clearly fake beard, in a likely attempt to disguise himself among the crowd. Somehow, he seemed familiar, as if she had already seen him somewhere, but she didn't care about that at the time. She had to get in that taxi, otherwise she would be in danger of arriving late at the palace.

“I'm sorry. The next taxi is yours.” He spoke, quickly turning his face forward and asking the driver to drive.

“What a selfish jerk!” She screamed as soon as the car left.

Who was that guy to take her taxi and think everything was fine? Clarke took a deep breath and decided to go back to the line, thanking people for letting her take first. Just 40 minutes later, another car appeared. Yeah, things hadn't started out well.

***

The blonde's fear had become real: she arrived more than 30 minutes late at the palace. She didn’t even stop to admire the beauty of the place, too nervous to quickly get her luggage out of the trunk of the car and run to the entrance of employees, where she had been told to go. It probably looked like a walking disaster to anyone looking outside, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

After presenting her documents, a woman addressed her, saying:

“You must be Miss Griffin.” Her countenance was impassive, although the slightly furrowed eyebrows gave the inevitable irritation at the blonde's delay. She held out her hand to Clarke, who shook it. “My name is Indra Temne and I am the foreign affairs coordinator of this palace. I'll be showing you your room here and guiding you for the next few months. Please follow me.” The woman pointed her head behind her, and Clarke followed.

The blonde's room was on the third floor and was absolutely spectacular. On the left side of the room, centered, a king-size double bed and, on the right, a huge wooden closet. In front of it, a mirror standing at the height of the girl and, on the other side of the bed, a small side table, which the girl realized could open onto a floating desk. _"It will be useful when I need to spend nights reading documents here,"_ she thought. At the back of the room, two French doors opened onto a balcony, which overlooked the mountains. And on the right side of the room was a door to a bathroom, which she imagined would be as beautiful as the room she was in at the moment.

“Pack your things, Miss Griffin. Try to be quick, you only have 30 minutes before the meeting with the princess. You are already late for it.” She left, closing the door behind her and leaving Clarke marveling at everything she was seeing, her fingers itching to draw every corner of that place.

***

As Mrs. Temne said, half an hour later, she appeared in Clarke's room to take her to meet the princess.

They walked down the corridors and down a flight of stairs, turning on the first left to enter a large room, with windows at the bottom and a table on the left side, surrounded by chairs. Every minute that passed, the blonde was more impressed with the beauty and aesthetics of the castle, already wondering how she could fill the pages of her sketchbook with everything she saw. Then she noticed that, in front of the table, two people were talking, and Mrs. Temne nodded at her to enter the room, saying:

“Your Highnesses, this is Miss Clarke Griffin, who will mentor the princess in her artistic portfolio.”

“I apologize for the delay, Your Highnesses.” The blonde said, shivering slightly beside the woman for fear of the consequences that this could bring to her. If she missed this opportunity because of that taxi...

They turned to face the two, and there, she realized that being late hadn’t been the biggest mistake she had made on the day. Her cheeks took on a red hue and she pressed her lips together, ready to dig a hole in the ground and stick her head inside it. She saw the man in front of him moisten his lips, which formed a crooked smile, his eyes shining when he recognized the girl in front of him. _"It has to be a joke,"_ thought the blonde. She looked away from the girl next to him, noting that she was frowning heavily, her gaze wandering between them, trying to understand what was going on. Clarke looked away at the window next to them, pretending to watch the landscape while he thought of a way to resolve it. _"I knew the guy in the taxi was familiar... I just didn't realize he was the prince."_ The only person who remained unmoved was Mrs. Temne, next to the blonde, without seeming to notice that the atmosphere in the place had changed. After a few seconds, the princess said:

“What the hell?” Clarke turned her gaze to the girl, noting that she was pointing her head at the blonde and at her brother, eyebrows still furrowed and an increasingly confused face.

“You know, O,” started the boy beside him, turning his head to his sister, “we already know each other.” His smile only increased, clearly enjoying the situation. Clarke held back the urge to roll her eyes, since she knew she couldn't make her reputation worse in that castle.

“And can I know how it happened?” Octavia turned her head to face Bellamy, her confused face remaining.

“Let's just say that I am the one to blame for her being late.” The boy shrugged his shoulders as his smile grew. _"Seriously, how does he have fun with others' misfortune like that?"_ it was the only thing she thought.

The boy turned his head to Clarke and Mrs. Temne, the smile on his lips giving way to a more serious countenance, although the sparkle in his eyes still said he thought it was all very funny.

“She was late for my fault, Indra.” He nodded at the girl in front of him. “I skipped the line and took her taxi, don't blame her.”

The lady on Clarke's side nodded, saying:

“Right. I will leave you alone, so that Miss Griffin can talk to Your Highness about her work here.” The woman turned around and left the room.

Octavia rolled her eyes, saying:

“I hate when Indra calls me that just for having strangers around.” She took a deep breath before opening a singing smile, which made Clarke realize how similar the brothers are. “What's that story, Bell?”

“That's what you heard.” The boy's face took on a tone of amusement while holding his laughter. “She would get in the taxi, but I got in the front. And do you know what she called me?” He said, tilting his head to the side, clearly finding it all very funny. _"Oh no, he won't say that,"_ thought Clarke. - "Selfish jerk." - He said, making quotation marks with his hands. _"Yeah, he said."_ The brunette in front of her burst out laughing and looked admiringly at the blonde, saying:

“I definitely liked you. And he,” she pointed a thumb at her brother, “really is a selfish jerk.”

“Hey!” The boy slightly pushed his sister's shoulder, pretending to be irritated.

“I just said the truth.” She replied, shrugging. “Anyway, leave because I need to study.” She gestured with her hands, indicating for him to leave the room quickly.

“Yes, ma'am.” He held up both hands in surrender. “I'm on my way”. He turned to the blonde, gave a wry smile, and left the room. Clarke just wanted to know why he did it all the time - probably because he knew he was attractive and wanted to take advantage of it. _"But what did I just think?"_

The blonde shook her head to ward off thoughts and took a step forward, bowing her head slightly to the princess.

“It will be a pleasure to work for Your Highness.” Clarke said, looking up and finding a brunette rolling her eyes heavily.

“Please, just call me Octavia.” She replied, extending her hand. The blonde was shocked - she was not expecting such attitude - but squeezed it. “Can I just call you Clarke?”

“Yes, sure.” The two girls smiled.

“Great. So, Clarke…” she nodded to the girl to follow, turned, and walked to a table behind her.

On top of it were around 30 drawings, all with a cubist footprint overlaid by a realist, as if the artist had decided to change the movement expressed in them abruptly. However, perfectly matched, in a way that the blonde did not know how to explain.

“These are my jobs so far, all done in high school.”

“I see…” Clarke replied. She nodded for the girl to sit. The two faced each other. “Today, in particular, I don’t want to talk about drawings.” She saw the brunette frown in confusion and explained:

“I want to know more about you. I mean, I read a lot about you, but it was in articles on the internet, written by other people who don't know you.” She saw the face of the girl in front of her change to an understanding, already seeing which way the blonde wanted to follow that day. “So, I want to hear from you: who is Octavia Blake?”

The brunette pointed to the chairs around the table, sitting on one, and Clarke did the same, standing in front of her.

“Well…” she started, scratching the left side of her face with the opposite hand and looking down, frowning, while thinking about how to answer the question. “I'm a 17-year-old girl, “she raised her head to face the blonde in front of her,” who was born as a princess of the Kingdom of Arkadia. I never wanted to take the throne, neither me nor my brother. “She slightly pointed her head at the door and licked her lips, before continuing. “I lost my father when I was two, and the country lost its king, so my mother had to take over as head of state alone, instead of sharing the responsibilities with him, as is the law here.” She took a deep breath, looking away from the table beside them, her thoughts seeming to travel far away. "You probably already know that," Clarke nodded slightly, "but now that has changed, since he had to come back to take over, because of her illness.

 _“Is the queen sick? What?"_ it was what went on in the blonde's head at the time, her eyes widening and her eyebrows raising, the shocked tone marking her countenance. Octavia, turning his head to face her, noticed that, and laughed lightly, adding:

“You don't know?” She raised her eyebrows in doubt.

“Actually…” the blonde stopped for a few seconds to think if she had read anything about it. "No," she replied.

The brunette tilted her head to the side, saying:

“Well, weird... I thought they told you.” Octavia pressed her lips before continuing. “My mother discovered brain cancer in a terminal stage a month ago and she hardly survives after the end of January.”

It felt like the air had come out of Clarke's lungs completely - she didn't even know what to do with that information. The first thing she thought about was sending a message to the boss since she had discovered something huge, which had not yet been in the press. That was extremely valuable and resolved one of the two questions she had to answer about that country.

But she also felt sorry for the girl in front of her and, oddly, for her brother - even with all the problems he had caused her that day. There were still two people losing a mother, and she knew how painful it was.

“I'm sorry, Octavia.” She began, choosing her words delicately. “I also lost mine, five years ago." The brunette in front of her opened her eyes wide. Clarke bit his lower lip, memories of that day running through his mind. "Car accident." She added, giving a slightly sad smile before continuing. "So, even though I don't have a thousandth of the weight on your back and your brother's, I know it must be difficult."

The brunette in front of her sighed before speaking:

"Well, you may have noticed that we're not exactly close," Clarke shook her head slightly, in agreement, "so the one who raised me was basically Bell and Indra. I am much closer to them than to her, but she is still my mother, you know?” Clarke nodded again.

The girl smiled sadly, noting that the blonde really understood her. As much as she and her mother had never had the best relationship in the world, Clarke loved her very much, and losing her had destroyed her. She noticed that the same was true of Octavia: Aurora did not seem to be a very present mother, but she was still her mother and someone the brunette had always lived with.

“Anyway,” Octavia sighed, “as I am much closer to the two, they had more influence in my life than my mother. So, obviously, my works have a little bit of them and that. “The brunette indicated the table beside her. “A little like they try to make my life as normal as possible with this whole situation.” Clarke could see the relationship between that and Octavia's drawings.

“The cubist footprint of the drawing representing how your life seems disconnected from what a teenager should really be, since you were born in a castle and, whether you like it or not, you are heir to a throne, and the realist superimposing it to symbolize your brother and Mrs. Temne trying to give you a normal life?”

“Exactly.” The brunette smiled in response. “You understood. That's what I wanted to go through in my personal statement. The weight of it all in my life and the way I draw helps me to escape a little from that reality, even if I end up describing it in my work.”

And so the two spent the rest of the day - just stopping for meals - talking about Octavia's life and how they could start thinking about what to do with her portfolio. The brunette had some ideas, which Clarke thought were good and decided she would incorporate them, and they barely saw the time go by. When the sun went down, the blonde said goodbye to the princess, and she surprised her with a hug. She didn't even believe that she liked the girl so much and was impressed to notice that she was reciprocal. _"Maybe we ended it all by being friends,"_ she thought.

She left the place, went up the stairs, and headed for her room when her arm was pulled and she ran into a person much taller than her. Not just anyone, but _him_ , because obviously the universe needed to laugh at her face again that day.

Bellamy dragged her to a corner of the hall and turned to talk to her, finding a blonde with a face showing confusion.

“I…” he started. “I just want to apologize.”

Clarke frowned, not understanding his point.

"You know," he shook his head from side to side, seeming to hide his words carefully, "you were late because of me and you could have gotten into trouble the first day."

Clarke rolled her eyes, answering:

“Are you apologizing for really assuming your mistake or just because I'm going to help your sister?” She raised her eyebrows and saw him snort.

“Is it that hard just to accept the apologies? I didn't call you a selfish asshole.”

“You deserved it,” Clarke replied, smiling. She didn't know what had given her to answer the prince in that way, but the way he made fun of her earlier had made her angry. She couldn't let that go.

“Whatever, princess.” He rolled his eyes again. _"But what kind of nickname is that?"_ she thought. “I was just trying to fix what I had done.”

“I did not understand the _princess_ , but okay, I accept your apologies.” She replied, rolling her eyes as she uttered the “apology” mockingly. Bellamy shrugged, adding:

“I stole your taxi and you swore at me, you hadn't even arrived at the palace and you've acted like a real member of the royal family.” He smirked, seeming to have fun pissing her off.

“Whatever. Apologies accepted, and I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you. Bye.” She rolled her eyes, heading for her room. She had heard people talk to her several times like that during her life, especially during elementary and middle school, and she had struggled too much to be irritated by another person calling her a mess.

Clarke went into her room, finished packing, and took a shower, getting ready for bed. However, she had one important thing to do first: contact the boss.

The blonde took her computer and connected the external hard drive, opening the secret messaging app she used to chat with him.

_Anonymous 1_

_10:49 PM_

_Are you there?_

_I find something today, I'm just unsure of how to prove it._

_Anonymous 2_

_10:49 PM_

_Yes, I’m here_

_Anonymous 1_

_10:50 PM_

_The queen is passing the crown bc she found out that she has a terminal brain cancer._

_The princess told me that today._

_Btw she thought that it was weird that I didn’t know, it seems something that the everyone here knows, they just don’t talk about it._

_Anonymous 2_

_10:50 PM_

_I already imagined something like that, she hasn’t appeared in public for months._

_The surprising thing is that it never leaked._

_Anonymous 1_

_10:50 PM_

_Yeah, I thought the same._

_How do I prove it? Do I find medical documents? This seems to be a little unethical ..._

_Anonymous 2_

_10:51 PM_

_Maybe it is, but it is the surest way to prove it._

_You can use an anonymous source as well, but getting someone at the hospital to do the tests is a better guarantee._

Clarke took a deep breath, knowing that her boss was right. As much as she didn't like to bribe her sources, always finding it low, it was the best way to prove it all.

_Anonymous 1_

_10:52 PM_

_Okay, but if I get a source here, can I not get the exams?_

_you know i think this is wrong._

_We are not talking about that election article, in which we proved the corruption that involved them._

_It's a disease and a family._

_Anonymous 2_

_10:52 PM_

_Fine._

_Get the story._

_I trust in you and how you will deal with it._

_Anonymous 1_

_10:53 PM_

_Deal._

_I text you if I discover something else._

_Anonymous 2_

_10:53 PM_

_Right._

_Take care of yourself._

Clarke closed the messaging application and opened the documents application, beginning to write about what she had discovered that day and ideas on how she could convince someone from the palace to talk about the subject without delivering that she was a journalist.

The blonde barely saw the hours go by and was startled when she noticed it was more than 1 AM. She saved everything and closed it, unplugging the hard drive and storing it in the safe she had brought in her suitcase, deciding to go to sleep. The next day, her job as a journalist would really begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me now, in the comments, what you thought about it! And you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/manuladaim).


End file.
